Jon Acuff's Blog, page 104

Grace for the friend who talks during the song you asked them to listen to.

I’ve read the Bible. The entire Bible, from “In the Beginning,” to “It’s gonna get crazy up in here!” (Not a direct translation.)

And I’m almost positive that what I’m going to talk about today is not covered anywhere in the text. I say “almost” because it might have been hidden in a bag of “begets,” e.g. “Obadiah beget Hebekiah beget …” If it was, I might have missed it.

But I’m pretty sure the Bible doesn’t directly address how we should show grace to a friend who talks during the song you asked them to listen to.

Has this ever happened to you?

You hear a song that you think is amazing. It’s almost like they wrote the song specifically for you. The lyrics tumble out like a mason jar of marbles down the stairs. Birds clap their tiny wings in appreciation when they hear it wafting out of your open car windows. This is a song to end all songs.

So you, being the generous sort, decide to share it with a friend. You’re a giver. That’s what you do. While at a stoplight or running an errand with a friend across town, you turn the song on for them. But you don’t just turn it on, you give a short monologue about what the song means to you first. You explain the nuances, the hidden instruments that are going to spring forth like an unexpected bit of cilantro or caper in a pasta dish.

You paint such a beautiful picture of the audio rollercoaster your friend is about to go on that you almost feel like someone should write a song about your description of the song.

Then you press play.

And they listen for about 4.2 seconds and say, “That was great. So anyway, I’ve been eating more burritos lately…”

Wait, what? The lyrics haven’t even started yet. We are miles away from the chorus. The verse that you just know your friend is going to love is being ignored while they play Angry Birds.

You stop the song, give them a brief minute to finish their burrito thought, and then start all over. Maybe, this time, they will give the musical magic a runway to land on. Maybe, this time, they won’t walk all over the moment they could be experiencing.

But they do. Again and again you try to get them to not just “hear” the song, but really “listen.” You want that song to go from their head to their heart and then hopefully their own iPhone.

It’s not, though. Try as you might, they are refusing to experience the audio landscape that is Sigur Ros or Explosions in the Sky or any other band you are in love with at the moment.

We must show grace in that moment. Surely we must, but how? What would Jesus do? What, when confronted with the inability of Peter to stay still for 30 seconds and hear a song, would Jesus do?

We might never know. Maybe someone who is familiar with the Hebrew and Greek can enlighten us.

Until then, struggle on audiophile.

Keep pressing play.

Question:

Has this ever happened to you?

The Adoption Journey

A few weeks ago, I got to see the awesomeness of adoption first hand.

My brother Will and his wife Tiffany adopted a baby boy!

They live in Nashville too and it was amazing to rush over to their house and experience the joy of that moment. Prior to that, I honestly didn’t know much about adoption. I didn’t realize how fast and slow the whole process can be.

For months they prayed and waited and filled out paperwork and did interviews and prepared their house. And then on a weekday night like any other they got a call. “This is the call you’ve been waiting for. Can you please come to the hospital? We’d love to introduce you to your baby.”

In the span of a 30 second phone call, my brother was a father. My sister-in-law was a mother. And a stranger in another city was a incredibly loved, incredibly cherished member of the Acuff family.

I don’t know if you’ve ever considered adoption, but a resource that I know has been extremely helpful to my friend Ken Coleman and countless others in their adoption process is the Adoption Journey Project. The Adoption Journey Project is a tag team, or more formerly pronounced “collective” of organizations who want to break down the barriers to adoption. (Bethany Christian Services, Lifesong fo Orphans and Lifeline Children’s Services are the organizations who teamed up.)

The goal is to create honest conversations about the adoption process, offer tons of easily accessible information about domestic and international adoption and perhaps coolest of all, connect people who have adopted already with those who are thinking about adopting. (The “Talk with a family in your area” feature is awesome!)

If you want to check out the free resouces they have for couples visit www.adoptionjourney.org. If you’re a pastor, there’s a free pastor kit with Orphan Sunday Resources. And if you’re on the Twitter, so are they! @adoptjourney.

Big shout out to my new nephew! Welcome to the Acuff family. Your uncle Jon will teach you how to breakdance and blog. Or start a breakdance blog. Whatever you’d prefer.

Big thank you to Adoption Journey! The work you guys do is critical!

 

WWJD – What Would Jesus Design

(It’s guest post Friday! Here’s one from Stephen Pepper, who blogs about youth work and youth ministry at YouthWorkin’ It. You can also follow him on Twitter @youthworkinit. If you want to write a guest post for SCL, here’s how!)

WWJD – What Would Jesus Design

Over recent years, many new technology companies, websites and apps have sprung up. When these become successful, you start getting copycats piggybacking on the success of these other companies.

Seeing as Ecclesiastes says there’s nothing new under the sun, I’m taking that as a green light for us to sanctify them. I’ve therefore taken 20 websites, online services, games and apps and come up with RSS feed versions – Redeemed Secular Sites that feed the soul.

First are the originals and then the WWJD (What Would Jesus Design) versions:

Pinterest – Users (aka women) collect photos and link to products they like.

Hymnterest – Create collections of your favorite hymns, turning them into virtual hymnals to share with everyone else.

iCloud – Apple’s cloud storage service.

myCloud – Use your treasures on Earth to reserve your own cloud–complete with harp–ready for when you’re in heaven.

Paypal – Make payments online.

Papal – Send tithes to the Vatican.

Esurance – Take out a car insurance policy online.

Esau-rance – Buy protection against family members interfering with your father’s last will & testament.

Zillow – Real estate info throughout the U.S.

Cityonahill-ow – Use this site to find a Christian community with great views.

Hipmunk – Book flights and hotels online.

Hipmonk – Who’s cooler: Friar Tuck or St. Benedict? You decide!

Evernote – A note-taking and list-making service available anywhere you have an internet connection.

Heavenote – Make a list of things to ask God when the day comes. You know, burning questions like “God, you remember that day in 1993 when I was walking along and saw someone, on the other side of the road, who looked like Steven Tyler? Was that actually him?”

WordPress – Blogging and publishing platform.

Wordguess – A blog where you quote from Scripture and your readers have to work out which biblical character said it.

E*TRADE – Invest and trade stocks online.

E*PRAYED – Trade directly with God: “Lord, I’ll stop doing ……… if you’ll help me with ……….”

Huffington Post – Online news outlet with content created by unpaid bloggers.

Acuffington Post – On this site, the unpaid bloggers will write solely about Stuff Christians Like.

Wikipedia – An online encyclopedia [citation needed].

Wickedpedia – Find out more information on the seven deadly sins.

Go Daddy – A site selling cheap domain names and web hosting.

Go Abba – A site selling cheap Christian domain names - intentionaltransfiguration.com, sidehugfellowshipping.com, transubstantiatingtravelingmercies.com, etc.

Hootsuite – Schedule your tweets and status updates.

Fruitsuite – Schedule when you’re going to display love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control each day.

Youth Workin’ It – The most amazing site about youth work and youth ministry. Really. You should go check it out.

Ruth Workin’ It – A Facebook game where you can practice your skills picking up leftover grain.

Netflix – Stream movies & TV shows over the internet.

Cast-your-netflix – Unlimited virtual fishing in a stream(ing).

Angry Birds – A game where you launch birds at wobbly structures to get rid of pigs. (Sounds less fun when explained that way and explains why I’m not in marketing).

Angry Words – A game where you practice taming your tongue.

Walmart – The online store that has even more stuff than a regular Walmart.

Fallmart – Only sells forbidden fruit.

Amazon – The online store that has even more stuff than the online Walmart.

Lambazon – An online store with a fantastic selection of sacrificial animals.

Youtube - Watch millions of video clips online.

Pewtube - Watch millions of church services online.

IMDb - Internet Movie Database, a site that lists every actor and all the TV shows and movies they’ve been in.

FCDb - Famous Christians Database, a site replacing your “Is ……………. a Christian” searches on Google.

Question:

What other alternative Christian sites can you think of?

If you’d like to read more from Stephen, check out his blog.

Trying not to complain around missionaries.

There are two things you need to know about missionaries:

1.  You should always support them.

2.  You should never complain around them.

The first one is pretty obvious: They need our money and our prayers to go serve wherever it is God has called them.  The second one is a little more subtle but equally true.

Because even if your missionary friend is quiet and never judgmental, I have to suspect that when you say, “My hot water heater broke, and I had to take a cold shower this morning,” he’s secretly thinking, “Water? I remember water.  It’s that wet stuff that comes out of pipes sometimes, right?  I saw a picture of it in the book we have in the desert schoolhouse I teach in, and it reminded me that I had not yet taken a shower this month.  But perhaps I will walk into the city next week and see if one of our host families will empty a plastic bottle of gray-colored water on my head.  That would be nice, I think.

What was that you were saying about your hot water heater?  You had to call a plumber after you looked up his number on the internet while eating a sandwich in your house that didn’t have snakes regularly coming in through the holes in the wall?  No please, go on, I am riveted by this tale of survival and hardship you are spinning, much like the black widow spiders I routinely sweep off my dirt floor or ‘bed’ if you will.  Please do go on.”

What complaints do you have that most missionaries would be glad to put up with?

(This originally appeared in the Stuff Christians Like book. If you want to pick up a copy, click here!)

Kids get the gospel.

I am about to owe a dollar to my 6-year-old.

Maybe even two dollars, which is the little kid equivalent of 19 million dollars.

At least that’s what my dad would do in this situation.

When I was a boy, he would pay me and my brothers a dollar if he used us in a sermon illustration. Though I’m not a pastor, and this isn’t a sermon, I’m about to show you the gospel in four pictures, and they’re not mine.

They’re my daughter’s.

She’s in kindergarten at a public school in our neighborhood. A few days ago, during her “free choice time” when she can play with blocks or color, she decided to do something a little different.

She decided to write her first book. The title is simple:

“Jesus” by McRae.

Has a ring to it, don’t you think? What would follow in the pages she wrote was an incredibly succinct and beautiful view of faith. Here is the story:

 

Page 1

Someday Jesus died for our sins.

Page 2

Jesus always told stories. Jesus never lied. Jesus love everyone.

Page 3

Jesus and God are still alive.

Sometimes I wonder why Jesus said things like this in Mark 10:15:

“I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.”

Then I read books like the one McRae wrote. Kids get the gospel. They get the need for a savior. They understand forgiveness. They know God and Jesus are still alive.

And they’re not afraid to draw Jesus with a great big smile.

Missing Sunday School.

Dear Sunday School,

Wow, where do I even begin? It’s been so long since we last talked. Fifteen years at least. I used to go see you in college on the Sundays I would go to church. There you were, faithful and true. No jumping around during the week for you. Like an old friend, you were always waiting for me in the same spot each week. At church, spooning right up against the service.

I could double dip.

I could knock out both at once. Church and Sunday School were the perfect team, like chocolate and peanut butter, frog and toad, Kim Kardashian and a professional athlete/Kanye.

Ahh, see that last joke was unnecessary. That was more The Soup and less the SCL. I probably wouldn’t have even made it if you were still around. But you’ve been gone for a while now.

We collectively decided you were old-fashioned. We felt like you were too restrictive, too old-school, the bad kind of old-school, not the good kind, like the neon colors that have zombie-crawled their way back from the 80s and are dominating the planet right now.

These days, we don’t want you, Sunday School.

We want to do life together.

To go through some seasons.

To form a community of communities that fellowship.

So we traded you in for small groups and home groups and connect groups and journey groups. We moved you to Tuesday night or every third Wednesday night or the fourth Thursday night divided by 14 with no remainder carried over. Now when I go see you, I have to find a babysitter. And a couch from IKEA and a plate of Costco one bite brownies for everyone that comes over.

And I love small groups. I think they’re awesome. In addition to forming some great friendships, if it doesn’t work out, you can trade in your group for a new one. That was hard with you Sunday School. If things didn’t work out, I didn’t have a whole lot of options. I couldn’t dump you, knowing that every Sunday morning I’d see you waiting for me right outside of church. But with a small group, I’m free to move around.

Let’s say the leader of my next group inexplicably owns a komodo dragon. And I don’t like komodo dragons. I’m more of a gila monster man. My daddy was a gila monster man. His daddy was a gila monster man. That’s just how I was raised. Well, I can just change groups.

But even though I like small groups, the more I think about it, the more I realize I miss you. I miss having the double feature of Sunday School and Church. I know it still exists. It’s still available at a ton of different churches. But, for 15 years, I haven’t seen you at the churches I attend.

Maybe we’ll run into each other at a potluck. We’ll shake hands, maybe talk about the old days. But then someone from my small group will come up, and I’ll have to leave you standing by a sad casserole, Sunday School.

It’s not you, it’s me.

Jon

Question:

Does your church have adult Sunday School?

The Assumed Hug.

I am more awkward than you. You probably feel like you are awkward, but you don’t have 5,000 witnesses to something awkward you did two weeks ago.

I do.

I was speaking at the Orange Conference in Atlanta. A guy named Reggie Joiner puts it on with his team at Rethink. They’re a bunch of geniuses, and you should check out what they do.

Reggie interviewed me from stage which was awesome because Andy Stanley spoke right before me. And one of the first rules of public speaking is “never follow Andy Stanley.”

The interview was a blast. We talked about the role leaders need to play with social media. When it was all done, I stood up from a chair I had been desperately trying not to fall off, and then made a decision:

Handshake.

Reggie, however, made the opposite decision at the exact same time.

He leaned in for a hug.

I leaned in for a handshake.

5,000 people then proceeded to witness my handshake-hug trainwreck. I was already in motion and couldn’t morph the handshake into a hug fast enough, as if I was doing some sort of breakdance wave move. I think I shook his left hand with my right hand and then wrapped my left arm around his neck somehow. There might have even been a leg involved. It’s all a blur.

I was cool with hugging Reggie. Despite making billions of dollars off the phrase “Side Hug,” I’m not opposed to the front hug. I just don’t assume it. So I came up with a system. When I greet people, as I lean in, I say out loud, “Are we hug level? I think so?”

And then they go, “Of course,” and we proceed to hug. But I couldn’t say that on-stage in the Gwinett Arena. I had a mic on. Can we rock? What’s up doc? Who am I, Shaq and the Fu-Schnickesn? It would have been weird.

Whole thing was my fault. Reggie handled it like a pro, though. I don’t even think I saw him give an assistant a secret signal that said, “Don’t invite this hand shaker back next year.” At least there weren’t 40-foot tall video screens and HD cameras to capture the whole thing. That would have been embarrassing.

I promise if you and I ever meet, I’ll shake your hand, unless you blurt out “are we hug level?” Cause then I’ll say, “Of course,” and we’ll hug.

Question:

Do you assume hug or assume handshake when you greet someone?

Doing the Holy Shuffle

(It’s guest post Friday!  Here’s one from Claire Stevens… If you want to write a guest post for SCL, here’s how!)

Doing the Holy Shuffle

No, I’m not referring to Saturday Night Fever moves that have been subtly modified to be church-disco-appropriate.

As a Christian who doesn’t drive and who takes a lot of buses, I have plenty of opportunities for time with God, listening to worship on my iPod. I’m worshipping, just with my mostly-inside-my-head worship voice. Sometimes muted sounds escape from the back of my throat. It’s like Crash Test Dummies’ Mmm mmm mmm mmm vs. Michael W. (Some people call him “Smitty.” Not me.)

Sometimes though I don’t know which kind of Christian music I feel like listening to.  Will it be Hillsong United – the espresso-shot of worship I need first thing in the morning, even though I’m much too old and un-bouncy to be in the target demographic? Should it be something soothing and peaceful? If I’m wearing a hoodie, should I go for one of the three songs with rap sections?

And then I remember: I don’t need to decide. The iPod has a shuffle function. It goes something like this:

Shuffle songs: Tim Hughes, Beautiful One.

My brain: “Oh, awesome. Yup, Jesus is beautiful. I love Him. Wow, it’s like God knew this was the right song. Hmm hmm hmm.”

I gaze out the bus window. The song is finishing.

Shuffle songs: Matt Redman, Let my Words be Few.

Brain: “That’s such a good reminder. Today I’ll have to remember to listen and pray more than I speak.”

So far, so general.

Then things get a little weird.

I’m daydreaming about that guy I like in my home group. Might he like me? Could he be the one?

Shuffle songs: Marc James, Surrender.

Brain: “Wow – that is so spot on! I need to surrender that crush to God as well as everything else in my life. I’m feeling corrected.”

It’s at about this point that I attribute the gift of prophecy to the iPod.

Don’t get me wrong. I completely believe that God uses music to speak to us. Probably even prefers an iPhone over a Droid. How else would you explain how long it took for droid to get Instagram, an app primarily used to document the sunsets God gives us? What’s astonishing is that the device knows exactly which song to play next.

It’s become a Holy Shuffle. (I felt like “Siri Spirit” was probably pushing it too far.)

Holy Shuffle: Matt Redman, Mission’s Flame.

Brain: “Wow! I’m going to be a missionary! God really is a DJ.”

Sometimes, God’s voice is a little harder to discern though. Especially when you have forgotten that the last time you synced your iPod, you loaded all your music rather than just selecting the worship.

Brain: “What is it that you have for me today, Lord?”

Holy Shuffle: Beyonce and Slim Thug, Check on it.

Brain: “Who am I to marry, Lord?”

Holy Shuffle: You Can’t Always Get What You Want, Glee Cast version.

Does that mean I’m headed toward a “Silver medal spouse?” Awesome.

What do you think?  Are there tracks on your iPod or MP3 player that could provide the answers to the questions in your life?

Question:  Have you ever done the Holy Shuffle?

Breaking up with your small group.

Many Christians reach a point in their small group relationship where they realize, “This isn’t working anymore. I need to see other small groups.”

It’s a tricky situation, fraught with unique challenges. Do you take the passive-aggressive route: Just stop showing up? Make excuses until eventually they stop calling?

Can you skip group without looking like you’re skipping God, because you still love him, right? Do you organize a mutiny and try to take other couples with you? “I can’t keep studying the book of Job. I’m making a break for it; we’re starting a new group and heading to the border of the New Testament. I think we’ve got room for two other people in our car. Three, if someone will sit in the way back, but Hank and Stacey aren’t going to be able to make it. Don’t look back. Just run. Run!”

Do you work hard to make them want to dump you? When you host it at your house, do you serve the most disgusting dessert possible, kidney strawberry pie or blackberry beet pudding?

Do you leave out of awkwardness? “I want to talk about some bowel issues I’m having. Anyone else know what I’m talking about? Bowel issues? Here are some detailed observations I had in the bathroom this morning. I took pictures.”

Do you bring your own poetry and tell people, “God laid this fourteen-page poem about the death of my cat on my heart; I’d really like to read it to you tonight. It’s written in Klingon, so it might be a little hard to understand the first time around.”

Do you start seeing other groups on the side? And do you keep your broken group going because you like talking about football with one of the guys, and your wife likes the recipes one of the girls gives her? You can find substance elsewhere. Just start small grouping all over town until you find one you like, and once you do, you can dump the old one.

If all else fails, I guess you could just be honest. But that’s only if you don’t know a good recipe for pork pineapple white chocolate chip cookies. People hate those things. Serve a warm plate of those to your small group, and it will be over by bite two.

Have you ever had to break up with your small group?

 

(It’s throwback Thursday! This essay, doesn’t that word make me sound “fancy”, originally appeared in the Stuff Christians Like book. You can buy a copy of the whole book right here.)

Looking through the telescope.

I’m doing more public speaking right now than I have ever done.

And usually, before I step on stage to share an idea with a crowd, I have a conversation with God in my head.

It goes something like this:

Me: God, are you sure you want me up there on that stage?

God: I do.

Me: Are you sure? I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life. Do you know what I’ve done?

God: I do.

Me: It was pretty big.

God: Was it? Everything looks small in the shadow of the cross.

And then I walk on stage.

But at the heart of that conversation is a problem. A trick the devil loves to play on us. A trick so devious that I had to draw it out to show you what I mean.

The devil loves for us to step up to a telescope and look at our sin like this:

 

We stare at our sin up close through a telescope and it appears massive. It fills our vision, its size overwhelming, its magnitude breathtaking, its weight colossal. The detail is so intricate we could draw it from memory. The regret so clearly replayed in our mind we could recite it perfectly, decades after we’ve fallen.

And then, the devil flips the telescope around and asks us to look at the cross like this:

We look through the wrong end, and the cross seems so tiny. It’s too small for our sins. Our sins outweigh it. They loom larger than the death of Christ. There’s no way grace could be enough for what we’ve done. Surely there’s something else we need to do to be forgiven. To be held. To be loved.

And so we search. We run from a small cross into a big world and look for something that will fix us.

The truth is, the cross is massive. Its shadow covers failure like an ocean covers sandcastles.

I’m ready to stop looking through the telescope the wrong way.

Are you?